Aperture
by Langleykel
Summary: This was the aperture of his lifetime." Post-"The Frame". SydVaughn. 1 of 1.


**Aperture**

**By**: Ellie (Chshalogrl)

**Disclaimer** I don't own Alias or its characters. If that's a surprise to you, then you really need to get out more.

**Rating** PG

**Spoilers** Post 3.17 (The Frame)

**A/N**: I'm not really sure what this is. This wrote itself over the course of three university lectures while I was trying to vent my frustrations in a productive manner. It was roughly forty hand-written notebook pages and it's being posted just as it was written. It just took so long for me to type that the prospect of editing was more than I could handle. I know. Bad me. Like I said, I'm not really sure what this is. If you could tell me, I'd appreciate it. Thanks!

**Dedications**: **Hijinx**- Because reading her fic is one of the reasons I decided to break my own rule of "Don't start any new fics." And because she rocks my socks! **OSE**- Because she ALWAYS makes me laugh with her crazy fics. And because she's nothing but supportive of me in all my craziness. And **DarlingSaila**- Because I have more fun talking to her online than I do hanging out with some of my real-life friends. And because I promised her a happy-ending. ;) Thanks ladies!

~Ell

Aperture 

She must have watched the wineglass for several hours. It was funny, she noted, how something so ordinary could become so magnificent when framed by the right eye under the perfect circumstances. And the wineglass was no different. From the flat, disc-like base and up the shining strand of the stem. The deep crimson of the crisp and biting liquid was striking within the bulbous reservoir, and she admired the slightest bit of froth that clung to the sides of the glass whenever she took a sip. The wholeness of the fragile wine glass was a beautiful sight to a woman who felt so utterly broken. And the wine served as her savior in more ways than one.

Her skills of keen observation had proven useful in the art of avoidance. It was silly really. And she felt foolish every time she allowed herself to return to that moment of naïve hopefulness she'd had on the plane. 

Bangs curling awkwardly into her eyes, she'd mulled endlessly over the question of whether she should respond to his announcement of his separation from Lauren.

He loved her. He had all but admitted as much in North Korea while they sat in their dank cell, limbs prickly from near-numbness, their chins quivering with the pain of their beatings. 

_"In my life…there is only one person…"_

She didn't allow him to finish. And not for lack of want. The stark reality of it was that the start of his proclamation sent a wave of desire pulsating to the tips of her fingers and toes. Hearing his murmurs of love would have been like a gasp of air after a daunting swim towards the surface. But words left unspoken were safer. So she stopped him before he could completely extinguish the tiny ember of hope that had been dimming steadily from the farthest corner of her mind.

He loved her. There was no doubt. But his acknowledgement of such wouldn't have changed anything. They were going to be executed. Or they were going to go home. He would be welcomed by the warm embrace of his wife. She would be greeted by a stack of bills on her kitchen counter.

So on the plane, with a quick swipe at her stubborn bangs, she took a long and ragged breath before leaping dangerously from the precipice she had being toeing for so long. 

_"I'm sad for you and Lauren…"_  The compulsory condolences.

_"…I'm also hopeful. And that's what scares me."_  And the terrifying truth.

She couldn't breathe for those few seconds of freefall. She was holding her breath in anticipation of an outcome. He would either catch her with soft words of surmise. Or he'd watch with slackened posture as she hit rock-bottom without any hope of a rebound.

_"I understand."_

He caught her. 

With a timid request for her company and a cup of coffee, she felt the strands of the past two and a half years unraveling. That ever-present ember of hope set her entire imagination aglow and every facet of her shrinking world was brightened with the possibility of him. She was suddenly seeing the future in terms of two…two spoons for a pint of ice-cream, two straws for a glass of lemonade, two tickets for the late-night movie.  It was a mindset she had abandoned since that ill-fated plan for a trip to Santa Barbara and the prospect of revisiting such a romantically frenzied period was dizzying.

For a few hours, Sydney was launched back into the role of anxious love interest. With rosy blushes and stifled grins, she felt her unsure and nearly catatonic self merging with her former strength and zest. She felt herself becoming the person she had been with Vaughn. She felt stronger and happier. She felt beautiful. And she was wanted. She even managed to surrender reality and embrace the déjà vu that washed over her when they entered the Ops Center. With matching strides and coordinating smiles, they could easily have been the "Syd and Vaughn" of yesteryear. The couple that managed to be the simultaneous topic of conversation from the watercooler to the office of the Deputy Director.

But a phone call was her undoing. She hadn't planned on sleeping that night. Her insomnia had been nearly unbearable in the time since her return and there were nights that she didn't even venture into her bedroom.  She had been forced to get reaccustomed to the burdens of caffeine jitters and heavy limbs, but she was never able to reconcile the puffy, bluish crescents that hung heavily from beneath her eyes. Still, in the face of the tumultuousness of the day, she had opted to lounge comfortably on her couch and clutch foolishly to the hope that Vaughn might grace her with a phone call. 

He did.

_"I guess we won't be getting that cup of coffee…"_

_"No. We're not."_

His words were tired, but unapologetic. As if she hadn't exposed her vulnerable hopes just a few hours earlier. The world was cruel. And she sometimes wondered if she wasn't fate's favorite plaything.

She grappled with her strong urge to hang up.  _Hanging up would sooner send him back to her_. But while his priorities seemed to be in a complete disarray, his intentions were clear.  So she took the tiniest shard of satisfaction from the act of pressing the soft rubber key, effectively cutting off his plea for understanding_.    "Syd…"_

Nestled in the crook of the couch's arm, she let the phone drop with a soft thud and brought a hand to her mouth. Smothering the weakness from her sobs, she allowed her shoulders to convulse with her gasps for breath. He'd made his decision. She wasn't surprised by the outcome. The makings of their reunion had seemed rather anti-climatic from a literary perspective…and her life was nothing if not an epic drama. But she had allowed herself to hope and she had been devastated by her unsuspecting optimism. He had always promised that he would never hurt her. But there was no one else in the world with the ability to cause her more pain. He was the reason she had remained intact despite the Covenant's best efforts to destroy her soul. And he was the reason that her rigidity suddenly withered beneath the weight of her world.

She was finally broken.

* * * * * * * *

But life goes on. And so it went.

But somehow, Sydney seemed to have been left behind. She became a passive observer of her own existence. Her life spun farther and farther from her comprehension; she was child at a playground, watching as the merry-go-round began to blur. And she couldn't jump back on for the ride. Instead the tangible world of the present became a constant window to the past. Every smell, every sight, every touch, every sound would send her hurtling back in time. Her motion was retrograde and the more she lived in the past, the more she wondered whether the future had anything to offer.

Things happened. Discoveries were made. Hearts were broken. 

Lauren Reed was a traitor. Michael Vaughn had been betrayed. And Sydney was in the midst of the debris.

He'd been devastated. He was hurt, of course. He had loved Lauren. He was nothing if not a believer in love and he would never have committed to a marriage void of such emotion. But more than anything he was haunted by his guilt. He'd spent almost three years away from Sydney. Two years of his life had been devoted to another woman. He'd spent one of those years splitting his focus between the woman he'd married and the woman he'd lost. 

He'd always said that Sydney Bristow would be his last stop. 

_Flashback_

_The room was suffocating from beneath the heavy blanket of darkness. The sky had been overflowing with dreary storm clouds all day and it seemed that the moon was powerless in penetrating the thick layer with its silver light. Still, the night was warm and the open bedroom window allowed a freshness to mingle with the scent of vanilla from the flickering candle on Sydney's dresser._

_Despite his sound slumber, a soft whisper of a breeze managed to trickle across the back of Vaughn's neck, effectively stirring him from the warmth of his dreams. Slightly chilled, he turned over to cuddle with Sydney for warmth, and he was surprised to find her sitting up against the headboard, her face creased in deep thought._

_"Syd?" He yawned slightly as he muttered her name and reached up to brush a hand across her cheek. "Are you okay?"_

_It wasn't until she felt the pads of his fingers on her skin that she noticed his conscious presence. "I'm fine." She glanced down at him with a smile and he was relieved to see that she was telling the truth._

_Raising an arm, he wordlessly invited her into his embrace, and he sighed sleepily as she scooted downward to roll into his arms. She was silent as he dragged his hand slowly down the side of her body and she smiled when she felt his lips on the back of her head._

_"Do you ever think about the future?"  Her voice was timid as she questioned him and his hand froze at her waist when he processed the words._

_"The future?" He probed dumbly._

_"Yeah. As in tomorrow? And the next day, and the next month, and so on."_

_"Of course I do." He responded easily._

_"I do too." She nodded before continuing in a wistful tone. "Do you see us as a part of your future?"_

_"No." Vaughn responded slowly. "I see the future as a part of us."_

_Within a second, Sydney had turned over in his arms and her face was inches from his. "Really?"_

_"Don't you?" Vaughn questioned._

_Sydney smiled before moving closer. "Yeah." She whispered. "I don't think I could be with anyone else after being with you. Do you believe in soulmates?" _

_He could hear the blush in her voice as she asked the question and he considered it carefully. _

_"I think I do."_

_End Flashback_

He felt guilty. It must have been hard for her to watch him with another woman. So he tried calling her numerous times. He became well acquainted with the outgoing message on her answering machine. 

"Hi. This is Sydney. I can't get the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back. Thank you."

Every dip and rise in her tone. Every syllable. Every gap of silence.  He tried calling her over and over again. Then he tried leaving her a message. But apparently his last phone call hadn't increased her affinity for that particular mode of communication.  And on the ninth day of his repeated attempts, he was thrown for a curve when he heard another woman's voice come over the line.

"The number you have dialed is no longer in service or has been disconnected. Please try your number again or press '0' for operator assistance."

He hung up the phone. 

* * * * * * *

The edge of the gingham tablecloth slapped lightly at her knees. The breeze had been fleeting at the start of the afternoon, but it had steadily evolved into a gusty wind, and it made its presence known every so often by lifting the paper cups and plates from their designated spots. The hum of a neighbor's lawnmower could be heard in the distance and the sweet scent of freshly trimmed grass was quickly filling the air.  Sydney felt a rare pang of satisfaction and smiled at the evidence of the coming summer.

When she'd received an invitation to a late baby shower for the several months old Mitchell Flinkman, Sydney made the foolhardy assumption that the shower would be limited to Carrie's female acquaintances. She knew that people were concerned about her mental well-being and had agreed to attend the shower with every intention of treating it as a mission. She had been trained to "attend and blend" at social events of every type, so the idea of slipping into a cheery outfit and offering vapid smiles had been less than appealing…but it certainly didn't fall into the realm of daunting.

The celebration was a nice one. Blue balloons floated in randomly placed clusters and Marshall's hand in the decorating was clear at the sight of white streamers draped every which way, looking dangerously like the result of a teenaged toilet-papering prank. After presenting Carrie with a small square package neatly wrapped in yellow tissue, she crossed the Flinkman backyard and seated herself at a picnic table to coo adoringly as Carrie unwrapped and held up miniature garments in various hues of blue. 

It wasn't until Carrie was displaying a tiny jacket of navy-blue corduroy that she noticed is presence. His back was to her, but she could tell by the tilt of his head and the slight gap between his feet that he was in casual conversation with the small group of husbands near the house.  He wore jeans and lifted a beer to his lips every so often. And he was wearing his favorite jacket. The jacket that had also been a favorite of hers once upon a time. 

_Flashback_

_"Syd! You're out of coffee."_

_Sydney glanced at the mirror and groaned at the news. Clad in sweats and a camisole, her face was still puffy from sleep and the left side of her hair was still flattened from her pillow. Making a face at herself, she headed out into the kitchen to find a shirtless Vaughn puttering barefoot around her kitchen in a pair of wrinkled boxers. _

_"Really out? Like, we-don't-even-have-Folgers out?"_

_He turned to face her with an apologetic grin. "Yep. Completely out. Not a bean to be found."_

_"I can't function without caffeine." _

_"Of this I am aware." Vaughn replied. "It's a beautiful Saturday morning, Sydney. What do you say go for a walk to get some coffee?"_

_"That would require physical activity before the required caffeine dose."_

_"I think you can handle it, Agent Bristow."_

_* * * * * * * *_

_"It's cold." _

_They hadn't even ventured two blocks from Sydney's apartment before the goosebumps had risen on her arms. He felt her give his hand a squeeze and she brought her free hand up to rub her arm vigorously. _

_"You're wearing nothing." Vaughn reasoned before gesturing to his own jeans and light jacket._

_"I'm wearing a shirt and a skirt." She retorted. "This most definitely counts as 'something'."_

_Vaughn shrugged and continued walking as he consciously fought the smile that was working at the corners of his mouth._

_"Can I have your jacket?" She asked him sweetly and without pretense, as though wearing his jacket was an everyday occurrence._

_Vaughn glanced at her with narrow eyes and continue to stave off his smile. "This is my favorite jacket. It's special. I've had it for years. No one has ever worn this jacket but me."_

_Sydney rolled her eyes. "It's just a jacket, Vaughn. And I'm really cold. Can I borrow it?"_

_He tugged slightly at her hand and they came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "I don't think you fully understand all that this jacket and I have been through together. Winning hockey games, losing hockey games, drinking with Weiss, break-ups with girlfriends, meetings with certain agents who would eventually become girlfriends…"_

_"I see." Sydney interrupted. "It **has** been through a lot." Reaching up, she fingered the soft, brown suede of the collar and smiled. "And it's going to see you through another break-up if you don't give it to me in the next ten seconds."_

_* * * * * * * *_

_Tilting her head back slightly, Sydney drained the paper cup and savored the last bit of rich flavor before tossing the cup towards the nearby trashcan. She watched as Vaughn continued to nurse his own drink and she pulled his jacket more tightly around her body. _

_The suede was incredibly soft and supple from being worn but well cared for. And the scent of Vaughn mingled with the heavier smell of leather and she inhaled deeply as she wrapped her arms around herself to get cozy._

_"Nice jacket, isn't it?" Vaughn smirked as he watched her brushing her fingers back and forth across the jacket's sleeve._

_"I'm not sure you're getting it back." Sydney deadpanned. _

_"You'll have to fight me for it." His smile put slight creases at the corners of his eyes as he challenged her._

_"You're on."_

_End Flashback_

Turning back to Carrie, Sydney smiled as she saw Mitchell being passed around the circle modeling a new baseball cap. As much as she tried to avoid thoughts of Vaughn, seeing him released a barrage of pent-up memories and emotions. 

He looked good. And she was surprised to find herself hoping that she did too.

* * * * * * * *

He didn't see her until the cake was served.  He had been appointed the official cake-cutter and quickly became so engrossed in the task of slicing the thick slab that he didn't even glance at the recipients of the paper plates. Until one of his hasty hand-offs caused the cake slice to topple and smear icing across the green fabric of a woman's dress.

"Oh. Damn! I'm sor…"  Grabbing a thick napkin, he lifted his eyes from the stain and felt a stab of anxiety as Sydney watched him quizzically.

"It's fine." Her tone was generous enough, but the words were clipped and he knew that her civility was all for the sake of the occasion. She set the plate down on the table and let her gaze roam for a moment. "I'll just go ask Carrie for something to clean this with."

Their eye-lines crossed for another moment before Sydney tugged at the dirtied cloth and turned away. 

He watched her for a moment. Just a split-second. And he took all of her in. Brown hair bound tightly by a practical rubber-band, light green sundress complimented by a cream colored cardigan, sandals adding an inch or two to her height. He could say she was beautiful. He could contemplate her perfection. And he could agonize over how much he missed her. But the naked fact of the matter was that she was Sydney. He wanted to reclaim the right to call her his own. 

This was the aperture of his lifetime. A gap of opportunity that offered him the chance to either brighten his mediocre existence or continue toward his inevitable fade to black.

_Open. Close_.

It was quick and simple. And if he didn't take advantage of the moment, it might never again manifest under what he perceived to be relatively agreeable circumstances. He weighed his options for a brief moment before he realized that his scale would forever tip in favor of Sydney, and that such contemplations were irrelevant.

Selecting an area with an iced rose, Vaughn cut a cube from the center of the confection before he relinquished his cake duties to the nearest candidate.  Keeping his hand steady for the sake of the fragile, sugary rose, he crossed the vast expanse of lawn, his heartbeat and his steps both quickening in rhythm.

She wasn't difficult to locate. There were only so many places a woman would go to clean a stain and he was correct in his assumption that she would be in the kitchen. 

The Flinkman kitchen was typical of what one would expect from new parents. Long and narrow with a breakfast nook on one end, the counter was littered with infant paraphernalia; pacifiers and bottle nipples, both dirty and recently sanitized. The deep sink sat in front of a squat window edged by cheery yellow curtains and Sydney stood directly within the window's frame, sunlight casting a gilded glow across her contorted features as she stubbornly scrubbed at the spot on her dress.

He watched her for a moment before deciding that he wanted to make his presence known before she could feel his eyes on her. 

She could always feel him watching her. 

_Flashback_

_The thick column just outside of her kitchen made the perfect perch.  Though he could see her perfectly as he leaned casually against the side, her chances of seeing him were slim unless she was looking for him. _

_It had been his turn to cook that night and he had prepared a delicious meal of fettucine alfredo. Of course, their pre-arranged deal gave him the night off from doing the dishes, but one of his favorite things to do was to watch her when she thought he wasn't looking. Her beauty was always unassuming, but she was never as beautiful to him as when she was participating in the most mundane of activities unaware of his attention._

_Tonight was no different._

_She was dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt, her hair tied back into her usual ponytail. She stood at the sink with a stack of dishes on her left and systematically washed, dish by dish, until the entire stack was clean. _

_She hummed while she worked. He had learned this about her in their time together. No particular song or tune. Just nonsensical notes in a long string, much like the sound of a bird in the spring.  She tended to dance a little bit as well. No full-out dance moves, but little hip wiggles and head swings that accented the high points of her impromptu melodies. _

_She ran her tongue across her lips as she dried the dishes and it was an action that drove him crazy. It seemed to be a habit for her since she would do it whenever she came across a particularly wet plate. And, as she reached up to put the plates away, her shirt lifted to reveal the firm flesh of her narrow middle causing him to groan and make his presence known._

_"You're killing me, Syd." Stepping away from the post, he joined her in the small kitchen and was surprised by the knowing grin on her face._

_"I know." She responded, her dimples deepening with each passing second._

_"That was all on purpose?" _

_"I had to entertain you somehow." She shrugged slightly. _

_"How did you know I was there?" He moved towards her and reached for one of her hands._

_She smiled as their hands joined and gave his a squeeze. "I can feel your eyes on me." She paused. "I always know when you're near."_

_End Flashback._

He opened his mouth to speak. No sound. _Damn_. So he cleared his throat. 

She jumped and her eyes were on him. 

"I'm sorry about that." He lamely repeated his apology before holding up the small plate. "I brought this for you."

She seemed to be searching for something as she gave him a platonic once-over. He felt his stomach tighten under her scrutiny and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness. 

Finally she shrugged before responding flippantly. "Don't worry about it. And thanks." She flung her scrubbing-hand in the general direction of the cake before turning back to the task at hand. The stain had long since been removed, but there was something cathartic about the strength and motion the scrubbing required. She continued the frenzied strokes.

Vaughn swallowed. The avoidance technique was less than stellar, but considering the given situation, she was doing pretty well. He lifted the cake from the counter and slowly stepped from the carpeted doorway to the kitchen's linoleum floor.

Sydney halted her efforts and bristled when she felt him approach. Keeping her eyes fixed on the large spot of moisture over her middle, she took several deep breaths. She wasn't ready for her past and present to collide yet. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready.  She dropped the sponge she'd been working with and braced herself against the counter, her eyes on the soft cream color of the kitchen floor.

"Sydney…" He started as he reached her side. Setting the plate down, he slid the cake directly into the path of her downward gaze. "I saved you a piece with a flower. I know how much you love the icing." He remarked softly. 

Sydney felt her jaw tremble slightly and his tender display of thought. She had once confessed her secret love of cake icing in passing and, from then on, he'd never failed to find the most decadent slice.  She hardened her features before turning toward him.

A rush of adrenaline charged through him when she stood and responded coolly. "Things change. The sugar makes me sick to my stomach."

Vaughn nodded slightly. He knew what she was doing. She had been giving him the cold shoulder since he had canceled their coffee date so many months before and he didn't blame her. But he wasn't going to give up either.

"I tried calling you a few weeks ago. Sydney, I'm sorry. I can't tell you how much I wish…"  He started again.

She was eyeing him again. But this time there was more than just anger or disdain permeating the air between them. She was hurting. She looked frightened and betrayed. And the thought that he had been the one to cause those feelings made him ill.

She shook her head and sagged heavily against the stability of the counter. "I don't want to do this right now, Vaughn.  I can't deal with it."

He nodded eagerly, anxious to accommodate her. "Okay, then maybe we can meet and…"

"No." The sound was hard. Unwavering. "I can't do this." She paused. _"Ever."_   

They'd reached a stalemate in their conversation yet neither of them was willing to disturb the odd fusion that always seemed to occur in association with their contact, whether romantic or furious. He watched as she blinked against the bangs that had grown a bit too long and, caught up in the familiar emotion of the moment, he had to remind himself that it wasn't his place to brush the annoyance from out of her eyes. 

He nodded slowly. "I understand.  But do me a favor, Syd. Can you promise me that you can find a way to be happy again? Because I'll be okay if I know you're living the life you deserve. But I'm not happy without you. Every second of happiness I _do_ experience is ruined by the fact that you're not a part of it. And I'm not sure I can live with the knowledge that you're as miserable as I am." 

Sydney felt a pang of fear at the defeat laced in his tone and she amended her words. "I loved you, Vaughn. It's just…that night. The night that you called me?" 

She glanced up to confirm that he understood. He did. 

"I fell apart that night." She brought her hands palm to palm and moved her attention to her fingers. "On the plane, I really thought that you were telling me that we were going to give it another shot. And I don't blame you for that." She added quickly. "I was reading too much into your coffee invitation. It's just that I wanted it _so_ badly. I was so tired of being alone. And I just thought…I don't know what I thought. But when you called to cancel, I just collapsed.  I can't do that again. I literally don't think I would survive." Her eyes darted upward to meet his and he knew that she wasn't being overdramatic. 

She didn't trust him. 

His hands began to tremble.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I wish I could give you a better explanation for my actions, but all I can say is that I really believed I was doing the right thing. My life has always been about the battle between my head and my heart. Following my heart led me to you." He paused as he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. "When you died, I started following my head. I think it's time for me to rethink that strategy."

Sydney tilted her head slightly as she considered his small confession and he pleaded with his eyes for her to understand the motivations behind his actions.

Their silence was interrupted as Marshall skidded excitedly into the kitchen. "Hey guys! Have you seen my camera-on-wheels?" He swaggered proudly. "I built remote control camera that's mobile and has hydraulic lifts so it will follow Mitchell and get taller as Mitchell gets taller and that way I won't miss a moment of his life…not that I'm going to be an overprotective dad or any…well, maybe a little bit. But studies show that…"

"Is that it over there?" Sydney pointed towards the kitchen table where a small, wheeled vehicle was sitting.

"Oh yeah.  Thanks Syd!" With a grand salute, Marshall raced back out of the kitchen, and both Sydney and Vaughn stood grinning with amusement.

"It's good to know that some things never change." Sydney said softly before quickly sobering.

"It's good to know that other things _can_ change." Vaughn remarked determinedly.

"Maybe." She replied vaguely.

It was a start. The window opportunity widened slightly. And the potential of the future was already brighter.

* * * * * * * *

Things were different after the baby shower.

It started out awkwardly. While Sydney had been avoiding him for several months, their encounter had piqued her curiosity. And while she wasn't interested in pursuing anything permanent, she _was_ anxious to see if she could rebuild her life. Even without Vaughn. 

It was a frightening time for her. She had rediscovered her path, but she wasn't sure which direction she should travel. So she combined the new with the familiar. She thrived on the lack of spontaneity she experienced in her temporary analyst position. Though she sometimes craved the thrills of field operations, she was happy with the trade-off of knowing that she would be home from work at five o'clock. And she would arrive to work the next morning at nine.

The first encounter happened 10:43 on the morning of the first Tuesday after the baby shower.  Sydney was nearly dosing off in front of her computer screen and allowed herself an exemption from her usual rule about avoiding the Agency's coffeemaker. No one had ever managed to make a good cup of coffee with the contraption, but she had been forced to skip her usual barista stop as a result of oversleeping. 

The extra fifteen minutes of sleep were really costing her.

Pulling one of the small white Styrofoam cups from the stack, she eyed it suspiciously before tugging at the handle of the pot. 

"That's not going to be nearly enough for you."

Surprised, she ceased her battle with the dreaded coffeemaker to face her visitor. Her immediate response to his smiling eyes was a downtrodden look and his smile disappeared when he saw the way she reacted to his presence.

"Hey, I can go if you want. Wait until you're finished." His concern was real and the offer was genuine. 

Sydney instantly felt terrible for making him feel that he needed to remove himself from her vicinity. "No! I mean that's ridiculous, Vaughn." She offered him a small smile and held the tiny cup toward him. "Thimble of coffee?"

He chuckled. "You obviously don't spend enough time here." Reaching into an obscure cabinet, he located a stack of larger paper cups with lids.  Handing her two of each, he explained. "No one _really_ drinks from those cups." He motioned to the cup in her hand. 

"Then why do they waste the money?" Sydney asked wryly.

"I'm afraid that's classified Omega-17, Agent Bristow."

"All the good stuff is." She responded playfully. She surprised herself with the momentary ease with which they had bantered. _Almost like old times_. It was just too bad it was an isolated incident.

But it wasn't.

Such encounters occurred once or twice weekly when Sydney conveniently ran out of time to make her espresso stop. Eventually, she decided that such stops were a waste of both time _and_ money.  And, after a couple of months, the coffee-breaks became a daily ritual. And every morning at 10:45, they were just friendly co-workers catching up with a cup of coffee and the mildest of flirtations.

Then came 10:48 on a Wednesday morning. Because she was stuck in a meeting, she was three-minutes late for their innocent rendezvous and she practically skidded her way to his side in an attempt to make up for the lost time.

"Sorry I'm late." She huffed. "Meeting with Kendall. Ran over."

He shrugged easily. "No problem. I got yours for you. I hope you don't mind. One cream and one sugar, right?" He handed her the cup as she eyed him closely. 

"Yeah. That's right. How did you know that? I've changed since we were…you know." She blushed as she always did when the topic of their romantic history surfaced. "And I've never said anything about it here."

Vaughn smiled at the evidence of her naiveté. "Sydney, it's you. I notice everything." He gestured towards her shoes as if to prove a point. "Those are new. I haven't seen them before." 

"Yes. They are." She replied slowly. She took a careful sip of her coffee. It seemed to taste especially good today. And she wasn't sure whether it was actually the coffee…or the preparer that made it special.

* * * * * * * *

"Are you busy tonight?"

"What?" Vaughn nearly spit out the scalding liquid as Sydney flew into the room just two weeks later with words flying from her mouth. 

"Are you busy tonight?" Dressed in her typical black pantsuit, her hair was arranged in an attractive twist, and her glossy lips were looking especially enticing.

"No." He answered carefully. As much as he hoped that her question implied a personal interest in his plans, it was quite possible that she could want him to feed her goldfish while she was on a date with another man. 

"Let's go to dinner."  Sydney smiled brightly at him while her stomach was churning wildly in anticipation of his response. Though they had talked about nearly every possible topic over the previous months, they had strategically avoided the topic of their current love lives. Or, in her case, lack thereof. 

"Sydney…" He bent slightly to look her directly in the eye. "Are you sure, Syd?"

The bright grin slid slowly from her face and was replaced by a look of seriousness. She nodded. "I'm sure, Vaughn. Regardless of what our intentions have been, we've spent the last several months building back up to this point. It's time for us to explore it."

Standing back to his full-height, a grin spread widely across his face. "Okay. Dinner it is. I'll pick you up at seven?"

She grinned excitedly before nodding. "Casual or dressy?"

He moved to head back to his desk. "I'll let you know."

And he did. She wasn't sure how he managed it, but several hours later, a rather large flower arrangement appeared on her desk. What he'd written on the card brought a smile to her face for the perfect simplicity of the words.

_Let's just be us. Casual it is._

* * * * * * * *

Hamburgers, miniature golf, and ice cream.

If Sydney or Vaughn had still been questioning their compatibility, such questions were answered by the success of their 'first' date. Vaughn was soaring when he felt Sydney's hand slip into his between the seventh and eighth holes at the golf course. And, though she had feigned irritation, Sydney had been nearly giddy when she discovered that Vaughn would still botch a shot or two so that she could catch up to his score.

The conversation had been easy and while there were tense moments scattered throughout the night, there was no doubt between the two of them that they should pursue their relationship with the passion they'd had several years before. 

A second dinner date followed soon after. And they finally decided to go fancy for their third date when they went dancing on an evening dinner cruise. Their coffee dates continued to be a daily occurrence and it wasn't long before they were the major topic of conversation at the watercooler once again. The names Sydney and Vaughn were nearly always used within the same sentence and the pair resumed the subtle looks and caresses that truly designated them a 'couple' among their colleagues.

It was only when Sydney began to see the world in terms of pairs that she knew they were truly ready to take the next step.  The realization came to her when she found herself ordering two ice-cream cones as the finale to their fifth date. Suddenly, she didn't want the date to end with ice cream and it was following their sixth successful date (an evening at a hockey game) that Sydney invited Vaughn inside. While it truly hadn't been her intention, she was somewhat pleased when the wine and the conversation led to some activities of the more exerting variety.  

Their kisses and caresses were frenzied after several years of estrangement and they each spent the entire night getting reacquainted with the other's body. There were subtle changes amongst the dips, curves, and scars. But their souls had remained the same. As they lay with tangled limbs and sated bodies, Sydney asked him once again.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

This time there was no hesitation.

"Yes."

 * * * * * * * *

The sun was blazing through her bedroom window and Sydney was nearly blinded by the white light that pierced her eyes as she stirred.  Feeling an added weight around her waist, Sydney threw back the edge of her chenille bedspread and nearly giggled when she found Vaughn buried beneath the blankets sleeping soundly with his head on her belly, his arm around her waist.

Burrowing back down into the covers she glanced at her surroundings and smiled when her gaze landed on the bedside table where a pair of nearly empty wineglasses had been forgotten in their exhaustion. 

She looked closely at the sight of the two glasses sitting side by side. And comforted by the symmetry of the image, she dropped her head back to her pillow and ran a hand through Vaughn's hair causing him to stir slightly.

Feeling the soothing sensation of fingertips in his hair and the smoothness of the skin beneath his cheek, Vaughn moved his head slightly before surrendering to consciousness. With a quick glance upward, he saw Sydney watching him, looking more peaceful than he could ever remember seeing her. And he knew they'd made it.

With their 'Good Mornings' and 'I love yous' exchanged through their soft smiles of contentment, they each tugged at the fringed edge of the blanket and lost themselves in one another without so much as a glance towards a clock.

They had waited more than three years for the time to be right.

Now time could wait for them.

FIN


End file.
